The Beauty in Tears
by JustMakeLeftTurns
Summary: "He licks his chapped lips. He looks straight ahead. It is in no way as beautiful as the view from his own cliffs, but he supposes it can't be helped." Sequel/companion piece to 'Dying'. Suicidal!Iceland. Suicide attempt.


_**This is a companion!piece/sequel to 'Dying'. I suggest you read that one first.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**_

OoOoOo

_Take a step_, his mind whispers. _Just one step, and it'll all be over._

He licks his chapped lips. He looks straight ahead. It is in no way as beautiful as the view from his own cliffs, but he supposes it can't be helped. He's in Oslo, the capital of Norway … Norway's heart. He thinks it fitting, for him to die in a place so dear to his brother. Maybe this will sever the connection between him and Norway, so that he won't be stopped, and Norway won't mourn.

Dying in a city is nothing like he imagined before. He wanted to die surrounded in beauty. But Norway took him here, to keep an eye on him. Norway tried to get him to open up. It worked for awhile. But then he realized that he was only fooling himself. And so it has come to this, jumping from a building. Nothing special. But then again, nothing in life is special. It's not beautiful here, but neither is humanity. It fits him better, he thinks, to die here than in his own home.

He looks down at his demise, at his savior. The people on the streets scurry around like ants. Tiny, pitiful ants, so easily stepped on. He grins wryly. They don't know how they are all puppets on strings, mice in mazes, following each other blindly. They are all so oblivious. He isn't. He is going to end it all, remove himself from a world that lacks true order and care.

He wonders how it will feel. Will the fall be instantaneous, the landing quick, so that he dies with a harsh smack to the ground – silently or loudly? Will the fall feel slow, as if he's flying, and then the cement will tear apart all order in his mind before finally granting him peace? His heart races with excitement. His eyes trace the exact spot he is going to die at.

He hears the door to the roof slam open. His muscles tense. He briefly wonders if he should jump, or fall, or simply step forward. He hears footsteps running towards him, hears his name called frantically, and his body decides for him. He jumps.

He cries out in pain when his shoulder is yanked up. Confused, he looks up. Norway, his poor naïve brother, holds desperately onto his hand. He dangles limply in his brother's grasp, just stares up at Norway with pleading eyes. He wants to die, he's so near it he tastes it, so why can't Norway let him go?

"Ísland … please," Norway gasps.

He knows that his brother is losing his grip. It's only a matter of time. He just hopes he doesn't drag his brother down with him.

"Please, don't," his brother begs. "Hold onto my hand. I can pull you up if you do some of the work."

He shakes his head. He refuses to speak. His brother won last time, but this time, he won't be fooled. He will accomplish his task. He turns his gaze to the ground below. His heartbeat picks up even more. He's excited. He wants this so badly, it hurts. He shifts his hand so that he'll slip from his brother's grip faster.

"Ísland!" his brother snaps. It doesn't faze him. He imagines himself falling, hitting the ground. It'll be perfect. It'll be a stroke of beauty in a horrible world. "Ísland, look at me!"

The shout startles him. He's never heard his brother sound so … fearful, so panicked. He looks up. Norway is crying.

"Please, Ísland," Norway begs. "Don't _do_ this to me!"

He doesn't understand. Why does his brother care?

"I _need you_! You can't do this! _Think_ about what you're trying to do!"

He says, "The world is full of horror and impurities. Anything beautiful has destruction and evil lurking behind it. It's not worth it."

His brother tightens his grip. He wishes Norway wouldn't do that. It makes this so much more painful for his brother.

"No, it's not. I can help you see the good in everything. I can help you see the light side." A pause. "Tell me something that's beautiful, right now, and I'll tell you how it's good."

He glances around quickly with his eyes. The only beauty around here is, "Your tears. They mean you're sad. They mean you're angry."

"They mean I care. They mean I love you! I cry because you're my brother. I don't want to lose you. Don't make me lose you."

"So that's one thing. What if there's nothing else? What if your tears are the only beautiful thing?"

"Then look at me and remember how much I care. Look at me and remember that I love you. Let me be your beauty, your purity, your light, your good. I can be all of that, you just have to _let me_."

He hesitates. One … one more chance. Maybe … maybe he can change. Maybe he can't. He looks down. It's not beautiful. Humanity isn't beautiful. He looks back at Norway's face. The tears are beautiful. Norway is beautiful.

He grabs onto Norway's hand with both of his and helps his brother pull him back to safety.


End file.
